A Turn of Perspective
by hotforspock
Summary: Major scenes/ interactions between Draco and the Golden Trio, but from the perspective of Draco. Plus a little Dramoine. Faithful to the books until we reach the seventh book scenes. *I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS/ SCENES*
1. Budding Enemies on the Hogwarts Express

A Turn of Perspective

**Chapter One: Budding Enemies**

There was someone in his compartment. As the train rattled down the track, the door flicked open sharply and a bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl rushed in, her chest puffing with importance.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." She asked, eyeing the compact room as if they were hiding a toad beneath their cloaks. Annoyed by the intrusion, Draco looked her up and down to confirm his suspicions. Waving her question away with a small hand movement, Draco sneered at the intruder.

"You know, when a door is closed, it usually means 'Don't come in'" he mocked, standing up and closing the gap between him and the girl. Crabbe and Goyle snickered behind him, creeping closer to back their buddy up and make him seem more impressive.

"I-I, a toad is missing and I-" the girl stuttered, backing away but trying to maintain her authoritative stance. Grabbing a strand of the girl's brown bushy hair, Draco silenced her and pushed her the last step so that her back was against the door.

"First year, I can tell. Not a pureblood, of course. Name?" Draco loved the feeling of being in control with other people, and if that made him a bully, so be it. Father always said that there were two types of people, those who have power, and those to weak to seek it. Finally, the girl straightened her back and the quaver in her voice stopped.

"I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?" she sniffed, for the first time taking in her surroundings properly and the company she was with. Crabbe and Goyle leered at her when she looked at them, and she wrinkled her nose. Then she saw the look on her bully's face and an icicle of dread grew in her stomach.

"I'm your superior in every way, mudblood. My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, and I expect a filthy muggle like you to show me more respect the next time we cross paths." Draco spat every syllable, each word dripping with scorn. Looking Hermione up and down, Draco quickly raised his hand, making the disgusting muggle flinch, but he reached past her and pushed the compartment door all the way open. Hermione stumbled back and flattened herself against the wall, but quickly regained her composure and smoothed her hair. Giving a haughty look at Draco and pinching her mouth into a purse, she scurried down the train's hall, muttering "rude, rude rude!"

* * *

><p>The rest of the way to Hogwarts, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle laughed about the terrified expression on the mudblood's face when Draco opened the door and she fell out.<p>

"Bet she'll be Ravenclaw, the stuck-up brat." Draco moaned, clutching his sides after a particularly good reenactment Goyle had done of Hermione's shell-shocked expression.

"Not Slytherin" Crabbe grunted in agreement, tilting his head to look at the other two. Draco sat up straight and leaned over the edge of his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. His short, platinum hair glittered when the light from the window reached it, almost making it look as though he was wearing a halo.

"I better see you both in Slytherin or else my father will here about it. Merlin knows I would kill myself if I were put in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, the sods. No way any of us will be put in Gryffindor. I'll make sure of that." Draco said, looking at both Crabbe and Goyle very hard.

Goyle started to open his mouth, but Draco knew his lackey's nerves had been getting to himand was tired of hearing about it, so Draco silenced him with a glare.

"Shut up, Goyle, I know what I'm talking about. There is no way any of us will be anywhere but Slytherin. Plus, my father said that the Sorting Hat will listen to you if you're confident enough."

"So?" Goyle asked, causing Draco to sigh.

"So, you big prat, it means that tell the Sorting Hat you want to be in Slytherin or else." Draco snickered, knocking his fist lightly on Goyle's head. "Honestly, I can never tell if you've got anything up in that great head of yours or not."

Just then, an older boy in black robes and a green-and-silver tie opened the door and popped his head in.

"You'd better get all packed up and put on your wizard hats, we'll be pulling into the station in under half an hour, I expect." The boy directed, flashing his Prefect badge to declare his importance and authority. There was a lot of commotion outside their compartment, people were filling the halls and loudly chattering to one another. Draco caught snatches of the conversations, words like "first year," "Hogwarts," and "Harry Potter." The Prefect had already bounded up to the next compartment, and so Draco closed the door and smiled wickedly at his companions.

"I think," Draco began slowly, "that it's time we pay a visit to our fellow first year, Mr. Potter."

* * *

><p>Draco sauntered down the hall, using Crabbe and Goyle to make people move out of their way. When they reached the compartment, the mudblood '<em>Hermione, I think it was' <em>scampered past them, pausing only slightly to give them a nasty look. Rolling his eyes at her, Draco stopped in front of Harry's compartment and winked at Crabbe and Goyle. Draco was surprised to see the skinny, ragged boy he had met at Madame Malkin's Robe Shop when he slid open the door. He now looked at Harry much more closely and with heavy interest, because

"He doesn't look like a powerful wizard." Goyle whispered, taking the words right out of Draco's mind.

"Shut up, Goyle" Draco whispered back, elbowing him with the sharp point of his arm.

"Is it true?" Draco said, "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" The two boys in the compartment stared at them with blank expressions, and Draco was starting to think that they were as thick as Crabbe and Goyle when the scraggly boy spoke.

"Yes," the boy, Harry, spoke. Draco noticed, annoyed, that Harry was staring at Crabbe and Goyle with a strange expression on his face.

"Oh, this is Crabbe, and Goyle," he said, nonchalantly waving his hand and gesturing at his cohorts, "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

The red-haired kid gave a shaky cough, which was certainly trying to mask a snigger, and so Draco, full of contempt at being laughed at, turned to look at him. Tall, red-haired, freckled, shoddy clothes, he was a muggle-loving Weasley, no doubt. Fixing him with his best icy stare, Draco upturned his mouth into his trademark sneer.

"Think my name is funny, do you? No need to ask whom you are. My father told me all the Weasley have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." That put the git in his place. The Weasley blushed and then went a violent white color, like he was going to pass out. Draco smiled a sickly sweet smile, and then turned to Harry.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He said, extending his hand to Harry. He had a triumphant smile on his face, and his hair was giving off the angelic-like halo once again. Draco was imagining having Harry Potter, of all people, join his ranks. They'd rule Slytherin, that's for sure. He, Crabbe, and Goyle all looked expectantly at Harry, waiting for him to take Draco's hand, but Harry never did. Instead, he turned his body slightly towards the Weasley boy.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks." Potter said coolly, his eyes slightly narrowed. Draco let his hand hang there for a moment and felt his cheeks beginning to color.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," Draco said slowly, all traces of friendly familiarity gone. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you." His eyes narrowed and his breathing became fast. He was delivering mostly empty threats, but that didn't stop him from wanting to embarrass and hurt Potter. Both Potter and the Weasley kid jumped up quickly, knocking the candy they had strewn about them to the floor of the compartment.

"Say that again," said the Weasley boy, his face as red as a tomato, and his hands curling into fists. Draco knew that, if a fight was coming, that he would win with both Crabbe and Goyle backing him up.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" he sneered, leaning slightly into Crabbe and Goyle. Potter wavered a second.

"Unless you get out now," he said finally, and Draco was taken aback by how determined Potter sounded. But he knew that Crabbe and Goyle were bigger and stronger, and he had been insulted, so he decided to mess with Potter a bit more. Looking around the compartment, he realized that there was an enormous quantity of candy and sweets next to the two boys.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." Draco said, nodding his head towards Goyle, who proceeded to lurch forward at the stash of Chocolate Frogs. The Weasley kid, who was braver than Draco has given him credit for, leapt towards Goyle, but before he could reach him, Goyle let out a yelp of pain. A rat was dangling off the end of Goyle's finger and blood was dripping down to his knuckles. The five boys scrambled for a bit, in shock over the turn of events, and Goyle managed to throw the rat from his finger. The creature hit the window with a sickening smack, and fell to the ground. They all watched as it scurried under one of the seats. As Potter and Weasley watched the ground for the rat, Draco grabbed his friend's robes and shoved them out of the compartment, slamming the door behind him. The three boys stood wide-eyed, until a huffy noise made them jump. It was that annoying Hermione, standing behind them with her hands on her hips. With a condescending look in her direction, Draco pushed Crabbe and Goyle towards the back of the train, and into their compartment.

* * *

><p>"What a thick sod." Draco said, once they had reached the safety of their own small room. "He'll be sorry he messed with me." Crabbe and Goyle reassuringly cracked their knuckles. They sat in a stewed silence for a couple of minutes and then the Prefect from before came back to announce that they were pulling into Hogwarts station. Draco stood first and smoothed his robes.<p>

"Well, Crabbe, Goyle. Let's go get Sorted."


	2. The Sanctity of Slytherin House

When Draco hopped off the train, he was immediately swept into the crowd of students disembarking and milling all over the platform. Over the heads of the crowd, Draco could see that oaf Hagrid waving his gigantic, meaty hands.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" he was shouting, using his hands to steered the frightened eleven-year-olds out of the older kids' way. Quickly glancing over his shoulder to make sure that his friends were still there, Draco pushed and elbowed his way through the throng, fighting his way to Hagrid. Once every first year had joined them, and all the other students were long gone, Hagrid patted his long moleskin cloak and set out at a brisk pace.

"You'll want ta keep up and stay together!" Hagrid shouted over the excited chattering of the kids. With a good-mannered chuckle, Hagrid turned his back and strode into a dark wood.

"They want us to go in there?" Draco scoffed, his eyebrows crinkling with concern. "Father always said that Hogwarts had some unusual traditions, but I never imagined it this bad!" Despite his objections, when the rest of the kids started to leave them, Draco followed, his lackeys close behind. Soon, it became pitch black and the only noise that could be heard were a few nighttime insects buzzing and some idiot kid whimpering in front of them. The path that lay before them was narrow and slick, and Crabbe slipped more than twice, causing Draco and Goyle to laugh. A couple minutes later Draco could hear water lapping against a shore, and then the whole crowd of kids stopped as Hagrid turned to face them. Draco could see better now, his eyes had adjusted to the dark and the moon was now shining through cracks in the trees.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid said "jus' round this bend here." He moved over to the side and the kids all crowded around, gasping and crowing. Draco nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, who started pushing kids over to the side so that a path was made for Draco to move through. As cynical as Draco was about Hogwarts, even he couldn't be helped when he got his first look. Whistling softly, Draco stood, wide-eyed, taking it all in. They were standing on the edge of a black lake, which glittered when the light from the castle shone on it. The castle was impossibly huge, with more towers and spirals than Draco could possibly count. There were gargoyles and lions carved into the sides of the castle, and they were actually moving and roaring. There was merriment and laughter coming from the windows, and silver ghosts were zooming in and out of the walls. Hagrid coughed and everyone turned to look at the giant.

"No more'n four to a boat!" he said, nodding to the cluster of boats that were floating next to the edge of the lake. Using Goyle as a sort of steamroller, Draco pushed through the kids towards the enchanted boats. He clambered into the one closest to the edge of the lake and scooted to the end, making room for three more. Goyle fell in next, tilting the boat as he regained his balance. Crabbe was putting his foot in when Draco cleared his throat.

"I'm not sure I want you in the boat with us, Crabbe. We already have a lot of weight with Goyle, I'm not sure it could support you as well." He said, smirking at Crabbe. A shrill laugh sounded from behind him, and a mean-looking girl with dark brown hair appeared next to Crabbe. She pushed past Crabbe and hopped in the boat with ease. Crabbe grunted and stepped in after her, making the boat violently shift. The girl scooted around Goyle and extended her hand to Draco.

"Pansy Parkinson." She announced as Draco took her hand. "And you're Draco Malfoy, right? My father has told me all about your family." Draco raised his eyebrows and smiled, showing all his teeth. He loved being the center of attention because people knew that his family was old and powerful. And being filthy rich didn't hurt, either. Pansy must love to talk, Draco thought during the boat ride across the lake. He was taking in the view from the lake, and noticing the way the water rippled as if something lived under its depths. Pansy's words washed over him until he heard "… Harry Potter," Sitting up straight and letting his listening become sharper, Draco cut Pansy off.

"What about Harry Potter?"

"Well, I just thought it was interesting that he shows up after all these years and I was wondering what house he'd be in. I hope he's in Slytherin, but I doubt it, considering it was him that killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and-" Pansy said, babbling on until Draco gave her a smart look.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you anything?" he drawled, "the Dark Lord would've succeeded in taking control if not for stupid Potter." Pansy's eyes grew as she listened to Draco talk so openly.

"But don't go spouting off what I tell you, who knows what idiots are listening, and I don't want father to get in trouble." Draco said, turning away from Pansy. She was drinking in every word he said, and a dreamy look of admiration filled her face.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled from one of the back boats and Draco ducked his head as the boats sailed under a curtain of ivy. The boats drifted into a wide tunnel that was situated under the castle itself and it wasn't long until Draco's boat thudded against a pebbly bottom, dragging their boat to a stop. Gathering up the ends of his robes, Draco slid out onto a wet cobbled ground. A couple moments later, all of the kids were following Hagrid deeper into the tunnel. Draco was telling a joke at Hagrid's expense when the group came to a stop at a huge, oak door. Pansy was sniggering at Draco's joke, but the sound of Hagrid's massive hands pounding on the door three times drowned it out.

The door swung open and a tall, black-haired, severe looking witch stepped from the inside, her emerald-green robes swiping at the ground.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid, and Draco clucked his tongue loudly. McGonagall had a reputation that, so far, lived up to the reality. If he was going to have any fun at Hogwarts, he was going to need to steer clear of her. McGonagall was pulling the door open wide and was walking into what must have been the great hall, for it was huge and lit with flaming torches all down the walls. Draco looked up and couldn't even see the ceiling, it was so far up. Before the kids was a magnificent marble staircase, with smaller ones branching off and lead to thousands of rooms. Draco even saw one staircase that lead to nowhere. McGonagall walked at a brisk pace across the flagged stone floor, past a door that was erupting with noise, and into a small classroom off the hall. They were packed in like sardines, once McGonagall closed the door, and Draco could feel Crabbe breathing heavily on the back of is neck. Across the room, he could see Potter, who was looking around nervously, and that Hermione girl who was babbling to some poor girl who had gotten stuck next to her. Draco rolled his eyes Ravenclaw for sure, he thought.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I will return when we are ready for you, Please wait quietly.'" She looked around at the students critically, as if she were disappointed with the new faces, and she turned sharply on her heel when she was done speaking. The kids started to loudly talk as soon as the door closed behind her, and speculations about the Sorting flew around the room. Pansy looked at Draco, nervously talking.

"My older sister told me they make you do all sorts of magic in front of the whole school to see where you belong." She said loudly, her voice becoming shrill. Draco's heart quickened at the idea. His father had never told him what the Sorting Ceremony would hold, and the idea of performing magic in front of all the older kids was beginning to panic him. Suddenly, a terrified shriek exploded in the tiny room, and everyone turned to see about twenty ghosts glide through the back wall. The ghosts were translucent and a creamy white, almost like a fog. They were talking amongst themselves, gliding right over the heads of the first years. Draco's eyes lit up as he saw them fill the room. A fat ghost was talking to the front of the room, laughing jovially with a stiff-looking ghost with ruffles and frills all down his clothes.

'Move along now,' said a sharp voice. 'The Sorting Ceremony's about to start.' Professor McGonagall had returned. The ghosts waved goodbye at the kids and drifted into the left wall, presumably to the Great Hall's dining quarters. After that last ghost had left, McGonagall barked out a few more directions and strode off, each kid falling in a single line behind her. The line moved to the wide double doors they had passed earlier, and, with a heavy push, McGonagall swung them open. As Draco made his way into the room, he could see that the hall was lit by thousands of candles all floating in midair. They hovered over four incredibly long tables, where older kids were sitting according by house. Draco strained to see the table decorated with green and silver garland and a tablecloth that had silver snakes sewn into it, enchanted so that the snakes were slithering up and down the cloth. They were the only table that didn't cheer or clap as the new kids shuffled by. On each table there were goblets and plates, all glittering gold and ruby-encrusted. At the front of the hall was a shorter table that was occupied by the staff. The staff clapped politely as McGonagall ushered them to the front of the hall. Glancing up at the candles, Draco saw that the ceiling was a cloudless, starry sky. As much as Draco hated to admit it, he was impressed with the castle and its enchantments that he had seen so far. Draco could feel the eyes of all the kids and teachers, so he was glad when McGonagall placed a stool in front of the group. Sitting on the stool was a decrepit, ragged hat. It was torn and dirty, and its appearance flickered. Sometimes it was a baseball hat, other times a fedora, but if you looked hard enough, it remained its dirty self. _Maybe they had to transfigure it into a rabbit or something, _Draco thought, his palms getting slick with worry. Everyone was silent and staring at the hat. It was just starting to get too quiet when a large split appeared at the brim of the hat, and it began to sing. Draco ignored most of the song, until the hat mentioned Slytherin when his ears perked up. When the hat finished, the whole hall burst into applause and whistling, and Draco let out a puff of air.

"We only have to try on the hat, so you guys can stop crying," he whispered to Crabbe and Goyle, who looked as relieved as Draco felt. McGonagall walked back up to the stool and took the hat in one hand.

'When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,' she said. Draco watched intently as the first girl called walked up and put on the hat. After a few beats of the heart, the hat shouted

"HUFFLEPUFF!" and the girl bounced over to the Hufflepuff table, where her fellow housemates cheered. The next kids flew by in a blur, with only one beefy girl being sorted into Slytherin other than Crabbe and Goyle. Finally, it was Malfoy's turn.

"Malfoy, Draco," McGonagall called from her list. Draco loosened his muscles and swaggered forward, looking Potter directly in eye as he made his way to the stool. He didn't even need to plead for Slytherin, his father told him Slytherin blood was in his veins. No way he would be anything else. He settled himself on the stool and he felt the hat brush his hair as it shouted out

"SLYTHERIN!"

Draco might've been a little too excited about his sorting, but he swore that the hat whispered _"what else?"_

Draco sauntered over to the Slytherin table, where Crabbe and Goyle sat, waiting for him, amongst the cheering Slytherin. He was clapped on the back, and, as he sat down, Draco watched as his basic black Hogwarts robe and tie fluttered before turning green-and-silver. Pansy Parkinson was sorted into Slytherin as well, and she high-fived Draco when she sat down. A few names later, a hush fell over the students as McGonagall called out,

"Potter, Harry!"

People immediately began whispering and jumping up to get a good look at the boy wonder. Kids were literally climbing over each other to see him, when the hat fell over Potter's eyes. The students waited with baited breath as seconds ticked by. Finally, the hat shouted,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

And the hall erupted into noise. The Gryffindors were yelling and celebrating, while the Slytherins started hissing their dissent. Draco could see Potter's head bobbing amongst the other Gryffindors, blushing as people clapped him on the back and cheered. It took a long time for the commotion to die down, and people were still excitedly whispering when there was a clap from the staff table. A wizened old man was making his way to the front of the table, his long cloak of crimson and black rippling with every step. He had a long, silvery beard, tucked into his cord-like belt. He was wearing half-moon spectacles and a pointed wizard's hat of black, with tiny white stars zipping through. _The Chocolate Frog card didn't do the man justice,_ Draco thought, watching as Albus Dumbledore clapped his hands once more. There was an immediate hush over the students.

"Welcome!" he said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin a banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" Draco's mouth hung open as Dumbledore sat down again.

"And I thought my father was exaggerating when he told me how big of a crackpot Dumbledore is!" he said, laughing to the older kid next to him.

"A crackpot he certainly is, but don't let that fool you for a second. He's sharper than a knife, and has the magic to match it." The kid said, regarding Draco with a curious glance. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but must have thought better of it, because he shut his mouth and started filling his plate with food. Draco had been so focused on Dumbledore that he hadn't even noticed that the food had magically appeared on the platters before him. A mountainous assortment of everything from potatoes to lamb stew was in front of Draco, and he found himself overwhelmed with his choices. He looked at Crabbe and Goyle and shrugged, grabbing the nearest platter and shoveling food onto his own plate. After he had sufficiently stuffed his face, Draco started to assess the other first years at his table. He talked with Crabbe and Goyle with his new housemate Pansy, and he met Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott. They all seemed like well enough chaps. Draco was starting to compare family trees with Nott when a silvery mist wafted through the rib-eye plate. The first years' faces paled when the mist completely formed and took the shape of a ghost. The ghost was dressed in Renaissance-period clothing that was stained with silvery blood. His face was gaunt and chiseled and his expression was grim. The older kid next to Draco inclined his head respectfully.

"Hello, Barron," he said, "Had a peaceful holiday?" The Barron blinked somberly and sighed.

"As peacefully as one dead can be." Turning to face the new kids, the Barron looked the new Slytherins up and down.

"I hope this group is stronger than they look. Slytherin house is becoming more _integrated_ and _diverse_ than it was in its glory days." He said, his voice scraping like a thousand nails on a chalkboard. "I am the ghost of Slytherin house. I hope you hold your house to its standard perfection and prove that we are the best and purest house." The Barron leaned against Draco, who immediately felt as though he was being grabbed at with a hundred clammy hands. Shivering, he looked at Nott who had started to talk.

"Aren't you the Bloody Barron? My brother said that you died a gruesome death and…" he trailed off, noticing the glare the Barron was giving him. The whole Slytherin table had died down, overhearing Nott insensitively speak to the Barron. The Barron seemed to grow five feet with anger as he towered over Nott. Everyone took a collective breath. Just then, a loud whistling pierced the air as a ghost came whizzing down from the ceiling.

"ICKLE FIRSTIES!" the ghost shouted, dive-bombing students and cackling loudly. The Barron turned his attention from Nott to the ghost, who was dumping a gravy boat on a girl's head.

"PEEEEEEVES" the Barron boomed, sending the offending ghost to a halt. With a terrified glance, the ghost, Peeves, bowed and started stammering apologizes. Glaring at Nott once more, the Barron glided away to the Hufflepuff table, where Peeves was.

"I'll deal with you, later, young man." He promised, fading out of sight with Peeves. Soon after, the feast vanished and dessert appeared, quickly erasing the sticky situation with the Barron from everyone's mind. Draco was feeling full and sleepy, a small smile on his face. Then, Dumbledore gave another clap and attention was back on the headmaster.

"Ahem-just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have just a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors." Draco snorted at the notice.

"What kind of magic school doesn't let its students use magic?" he whispered to Crabbe, who grunted.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch." Draco's head whipped up at the Quidditch announcement. He loved Quidditch, and was pretty fair at it. He hoped to make the house team, even if first years generally weren't allowed.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Draco gave a questioning look to Goyle, who shrugged_. What kind of school is this_, he thought, his eyebrows crinkling in befuddlement.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Everyone at the Slytherin table gave a collective groan as Dumbledore flicked his wand. A long golden ribbon poured out of the tip, which twisted into words high above the student's heads.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," Dumbledore smiled, "and off we go!" What followed was a hodgepodge mess of tunes and words, clashing together like some sort of horrible medley. Draco chose the Bulgarian Quidditch team's anthem as his tune and he sang gaily with his fellow schoolmates. He was laughing at the end and the whole hall applauded when the last straggler's voices fell.

"Ah, music," Dumbledore said, his eyes glittering, "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" Draco was becoming aware of how exhausted he was as he fell in step behind the Slytherin Prefect, Gemma Farley. The first years followed Gemma out of the Dining Hall and into the corridor, where they walked down a flight of steps that lead them farther away from the commotion of the other houses. As Gemma guided them through the twisting paths, she turned to speak to them, almost like a tour guide.

"So, welcome to Slytherin. You may have heard a few not-so-nice rumors about our house, but most of them are lies told by the other three houses. Sure, we Slytherins tend to be a bit dark, but there's a lot of respect that come with that. Traditionally, our students are purebloods, but there are plenty of Serpents here with a muggle parent, so don't believe that we are an elitist group in that social way. I'm sure one of the interesting facts you didn't hear was that Merlin himself was a Slytherin. I don't know about you, but I'd rather be linked to Merlin than some washed up old Gryffindor." Gemma came to a stop and turned to fully face the group.

"Being a Slytherin is more than lineage and having a wild side- it's also about looking after your own. Now that you've been sorted, take a good look around because these are now your brothers and sisters. Always have their backs. Being a Slytherin makes you an elite. Do you know what is most prized in a Slytherin? The potential for greatness. All Slytherins have that special something that marks them for great things, in every sense of the meaning. If you have any doubts about your brother and sisters, keep it to yourself. They were put here for a reason, same as you." Gemma's curly blonde hair bounced as she talked, punctuating every word. The group silently looked at one another, and then Gemma set off at her quick pace, causing everyone to scramble to catch up with her. Draco reflected on what Gemma had said about the potential for greatness. He was regarding Crabbe and Goyle who didn't look like they could be great when Gemma flew down a last staircase and came to a stop next to a cement wall.

"A few final things, I saw that you all met the Bloody Baron. Stay on his good side and don't ask how he got his bloodstains." She threw a fixed stare at Nott, who blushed. "The password to the common room changes every fortnight, so pay attention to the notice board. Never let any outsider know out password or our location. I think that about covers it." Draco was starting to feel the chill from where he was standing. _We must be very far underground, probably in the dungeons_, he thought, rubbing his cold hands together. Gemma pivoted towards the wall and put her wand's tip to the surface, making an invisible S.

"_Purus Sanguis_," she said, and she jumped back quickly, startling the kids behind her. The cement wall shuddered and pulled to the side, making loud scraping noises as it came to a stop. Behind the wall was a polished maple door, with a metal serpent on the top. There were two huge brass knockers with smaller serpents on them, and as Gemma pulled one, a serpent hissed at her. She swung the door open wide and pushed the kids into a dim room, closing the door behind her.

Draco found himself in a large, poorly lit common room, which was covered with green tapestries. There was a huge black, metal fireplace on the back wall, which had a silver fire crackling and the serpent engraved on either side. Next to the fireplace were two black armchairs, with green throw pillows and blankets. There were multiple wiry couches that stood along a far wall, adjacent to a few marble tables. The ceiling was rough-hewn stone, transforming the room in a cavernous feel. But the most impressive display by far was the wall made completely of windows, with a view so spectacular, it took Draco's breath away. The common room was completely submerged under the black lake the first years had crossed to get to the castle. Underwater ferns and lilies grew around the windows, making the view seem framed, and the kids shuffled over for a closer look. A collective gasp sprang from every first year's throat as a giant squid passed by. Gemma laughed as Crabbe fell backwards from surprise. Boys were directed through a narrow corridor of to the right, girls to the left. Draco led the boys through the little hall until they reached a heptagon, shaped room, with a door on each side. Each door had a number, 1-7, and the names of the boys sharing the room. Their room was room one, which was situated closest to the hall. Draco opened the door, and the boys piled in, finding that their belongings had already been taken up and placed in their own areas. Each section of the dormitory had a black desk, a wardrobe, a leather trunk, a four-poster bed made with green and silver drapes, and a nightstand. The walls were decorated with murals depicting numerous adventures, and there were five port-hole-like windows looking out into the lake. After each boy had changed into their nightclothes, they looked at each other for introductions.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, and this is Crabbe and Goyle." Draco said, indicating that the two behind him were Crabbe and Goyle.

"You've already met me," said Nott, nodding at both of Draco's comrades.

"I'm Blaise Zabini." Said the last boy, who had dark brown skin and alarming green eyes. The boys all exchanged pleasantries and fell into bed, too tired to do much of anything else. Draco smiled to himself as he drifted off, excited for the new year to start.


	3. Potions Protégé

Chapter Three:

**Potions Protégé**

The next morning was chaotic. All five of the boys had a late start getting up and, upon entering the common room, discovered that they had missed breakfast and had only five minutes until their next class. Draco looked at his schedule, which had appeared on everyone's bedside table overnight, and saw that History of Magic was first. It took ten minutes to find the History of Magic classroom, which was on the first floor, and Draco almost wished they hadn't had found it, because the teacher was a very old ghost who talked in no more than a raspy whisper and droned endlessly on about Goblin Wars. After History of Magic they had Herbology, which Crabbe very much enjoyed but not so much Draco, and then Charms before lunch. By the time the group of boys had reached their Slytherin table, they were all tired and their brains were sore.

"At the pace these classes are going, I expect we'll be bored to death." Draco said, resting his head on the table.

"Herbology is fun." grunted Crabbe, grabbing a plate and piling two of everything onto it. Draco lifted his head from the table to see Potter sit at the Gryffindor table with people following him and pointing at him.

"I can't believe that Potter was sorted into Gryffindor. And that Weasley," moaned Draco, narrowing his eyes. "And that Hermione Granger? Thought she'd be Ravenclaw for sure." Pansy was seated a few seats down, but she walked over and sat between Draco and Blaise.

"That Hermione Granger is such a bore. I was in the girl's bathroom with her and she nearly talked me to my grave." She sniffed, taking a ham sandwich from Goyle's plate. Scanning his schedule, Nott passed it to Draco.

"Looks like we'll see just how much of a drip she is. We've got double Potions with Gryffindor next period." Nott said, wiping his mouth on the hem of his robe.

"That's Snape's class, isn't it? I heard he tries for Defense Against the Dark Arts every year but always loses out. Father was telling me that Snape is head of Slytherin house and that he'll favor us." Draco said, leaning in to the table.

"Well he can't be any worse than the other teachers," said Blaise "Binns was a snore, Sprout was annoying, and Flitwick was a joke." There was a loud flapping sound, and a hundred owls filled the hall, dropping letters and gifts into soups and laps. Turning his attention back to his friends, Draco raised his eyebrows.

"We'll see." He said.

* * *

><p>The Potions classroom was very close to the Slytherin dormitories, down in the dungeons. It was cold and creepy, with chains dangling from the walls, torches lighting up peculiar stains, and pickled animals and organs in mason jars, lining the back wall. Draco and his friends took their seats around the class, away from the Gryffindors, and waited until their professor arrived. Snape came whirling into the room, his cloak billowing around him, and the candles nearby going out with a muted <em><strong>whish. <strong>_He had long, black, greasy hair that came to his shoulders, and his skin was very pale and sallow. His eyes looked as black as night, and his fingernails were long and sharp. He reached the front of the room and stared his class down, taking stock of the new students. Wordlessly, he snatched a piece of parchment from his desk and looked it over. The students sat with baited breath as Snape cleared his throat.

"Brown, Lavender." Snape said, in a raspy voice. The class was silent for a moment before a Gryffindor girl with blonde, curly hair squeaked, "Oh! Me!" Snape sneered at her for a moment before ticking her name off. He went down the names, reaching "Malfoy, Draco."

"Present." Draco said, shooting his hand in the hair and glaring at the other students. Snape checked his name and smirked at Draco, nodding his head in welcome.

"Potter, Harry. Ah, yes," Snape said gently, "Harry Potter. Our new- _celebrity_." Draco and his friends started laughing, pressing their hands to their mouths to stifle it a bit. Draco could see Potter's cheeks turn red, and watched as he ducked his head down. _I have a feeling I'm going to like Snape_, Draco thought, leering. Snape lingered for a moment near Potter's desk at the front, then sharply turned and strode to the desk at the very front. Snape carefully tied a ribbon around the attendance parchment, then placed it on his palm and threw it up into the air. The class gasped as the parchment went up in smoke ad encircled the room. They had started to mutter amongst themselves when Snape cleared his throat and icily stared at the class. Silence fell almost immediately.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he said, wandering around the room. Students were hanging on to every word, and not a sound was heard apart from Snape's lecture. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Draco whistled low under his breath, his eyes wide. The room was silent for a few beats of the heart, and suddenly Snape wheeled around and turned on Potter.

"Potter!" he shouted, making the class jump, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Draco leaned in his seat to watch as Potter's face swam with confusion, struggling to make sense of Snape's words.

"I don't know, sir." He said, blinking rapidly. Snape shook his head in mock disapproval.

"Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything." Draco could see that twit Hermione frantically waving her hand next to Potter, trying desperately to get Snape's attention. Whether he didn't see it, or chose to ignore it, Snape was focused solely on Potter.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Draco was doubled over at the stupid look on Potter's face. Obviously he didn't know the answer either, I mean, who did? But it was fun to watch the sweat drip from Potter's stupid forehead and how the rest of the class was witness to this highly embarrassing moment. Draco's friends were laughing as well. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy were clutching their sides and maliciously teasing Potter quiet enough so that they couldn't get in trouble, but loud enough for Potter to hear. Blaise was chuckling quietly in the corner, but Nott was silent. He had a somber look on his face and was staring dully ahead. Draco raised his eyebrows, but decided to ignore it for now.

"I don't know, sir." Potter was saying again, his face beet red.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape scoffed. Potter had started to shift in his seat. Draco had to give him credit, however, Potter never took his eyes away from Snape's. Hermione was still shaking her hand as if it were going to fall off.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Hermione was standing now, leaning her body towards Snape, and looking like a loon who thought she could fly.

"I don't know," Potter said softly. "I think Hermione does, though, why you don't try her?" The Gryffindors chuckled and winked at one another, clearly thinking Potter had won that round, but Snape narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to Potter.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione, who was startled into falling down. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" The class sprang to attention as a flurry of papers and quills rushed out of bags and onto desks.

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

* * *

><p>The whole class was split into twos and given tasks for a basic potion. Nobody was safe from Snape's harsh scrutiny, except Draco.<p>

"Well done, Draco," Snape said, smiling and patting Draco on the back. "Class, come watch how Draco stews his horned slugs! See how the puffs of smoke are a thick purple? That's how yours is supposed to look, and when you hear the hiss, you'll know it's done. I don't expect any of you to get it perfect such as Draco did here, but he is a natural." Draco was beaming and flashing smiles to anyone who looked at him. He was just telling some Slytherin girl that she was doing it all wrong, when a cloud of green filled the class and a terrible screech filled the dungeon. Some oafish Gryffindor boy had somehow managed to melt his cauldron and it was slowly shaping into a molten blob. The acidic quality he had concocted was seeping into the desk, finishing off the cauldron entirely. Soon, the potion was covering the floor of the dungeon, eating away at people's shoes and socks, causing people to jump onto their slowly disintegrating tables. The boy, who had been doused with his concoction, was writhing in agony as angry welts and purple boils sprang up and down his body. Draco gave a disgusted look at his friends.

"It actually _improves_ his appearance." Said Pansy, sending the Slytherins into a fit of giggles. Snape, who had been inspecting a different student, covered the length between himself and the boy in two strides.

"Idiot boy!" he spat, harshly waving his hand so that the spilled potion disappeared. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" The boy was moaning as the boils on his body started to burst, a sickly yellow pus squeezing out of them. Blaise gagged behind Draco.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape snarled at another Gryffindor boy who had been partnered with the oaf. Once the two boys had limped out of the class, Snape turned on Potter.

"You- Potter- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor." Potter's eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth, presumably to argue, but Weasley leaned close to him and whispered something into his ear that seemed to relax him. Potter looked up and made eye contact with Draco, and Draco gave two thumbs up and the smuggest look he could muster.

* * *

><p>The last hour of class was full of laughing at the stupid group of Gryffindors and watching as Snape rounded on Potter again and again. Spirits were high as the Slytherins exited the dungeons.<p>

"We'll win the House Cup for sure this year! Those idiot Gryffindors don't stand a chance." Draco said, puffing his chest out and throwing his head back. The group made their way back to Slytherin dungeon, happy to have some time to relax. In the common room, Draco sat at the wiry couch that was adjacent to the metal fireplace, a favorite spot of his. It looked directly out into the lake, and, every now and then, you'd catch a new magical creature swimming by. Sitting on either side of him was Crabbe and Goyle, while Pansy sat across from him next to Blaise, and Nott on the floor. The six discussed their classes and how they liked them (or not) and the teacher. But mostly they talked about lineage. Draco was just explaining his connection to the Black family when Nott stood up and started to walk off towards the dormitories.

"And where do you think you're going?" Draco asked, raising his voice. Nott turned and shrugged.

"I have to get started on this homework." He said, his face even. Draco raised an eyebrow but turned back to his friends as Nott walked away.

"What is wrong with Nott? He's been weird. What's his family like?" Draco said, thinking of the way Nott didn't join in on the taunting of Potter and the other Gryffindors.

"I don't think anyone knows, really. He comes from a nobody family. Their purebloods, to be sure, but they aren't prominent or wealthy." Blaise said, leaning back and crossing his legs. Draco thought for a moment before shrugging and turning his attention to other matters.

"It's a shame that first years aren't allowed to make the Quidditch teams. My own Cleansweep Eleven would've blown the competition out of the field. You know, my father will hear about this. Not being able to participate in the greatest of sports- it's a crime, really. Plus I'll bet I'm better than most of the other teams." Draco said, a hint of snideness in his tone.

"Well we have our first flying lessons starting Thursday. They haven't announced the groups yet, but let's hope we learn with Hufflepuff." Blaise said. The group sat around for a short time, watching as a school of Shrake swam by in unison. Finally, Goyle chuckled.

"Potter looked stupid." He laughed, startling the others.

"I didn't know your lackey could talk, Draco," Pansy smirked, her eyes brightening as Draco laughed. "But he's right. Potter really looked a fool today, didn't he? Snape seems all right. It looks like he only likes you, though, Draco."

"He's a family friend. And yeah, Potter's a real idiot. But that other boy, the one who made the mess? He's a real nutter. I thought Snape's eyes were going to pop out of his head when he made that mess!" Draco snorted, remembering the silly look on Snape's face.

"And that Hermione, what an annoying prat! 'Oh! Call on me, Professor! Please!' I thought I was going to walk across the room and punch her, I was so irritated!" Blaise said, mimicking Hermione's high-pitched squeal. The group hooted and Draco laughed so hard tears sprang from his eyes. They were still smiling and doing imitations as they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner.


End file.
